


Synergy

by TheDarknessFactor



Series: The Scientific Implications of Two Sisters [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Chapter One Spoilers, Chapter one, Food, Gen, Team as Family, Trooper Class Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6274597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessFactor/pseuds/TheDarknessFactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You've been holding out on me, Jorgan.  I may have to officially reprimand you for that.”</p>
<p>“I'm pretty sure that's an abuse of power, sir.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synergy

**Author's Note:**

> Because this fluffy little idea wouldn't leave my head. It gets more serious towards the end, but it's not that heavy.
> 
> Enjoy!

There's an itch in the back of Kulah'ni’s mind as she goes through combat tactics, attempting to incorporate Forex's methods with the rest of the squad’s.  She knows, instinctively, that something is different, but the hour slot on the chronometer continues to change, and she has still failed to put her finger on exactly what it is.

She's just put the finishing touches on some new training regimens when it hits her – something smells.

Not in a bad way, however; on the contrary, the scent is almost heavenly.  For someone who's used to either ship rations or the simplest dishes possible, the smell of a meal being prepared is not a common occurrence.  For a brief moment, Kulah'ni longs for evening meals with Torunna – helping her with the preparation, the comfortable silence that comes with having company while eating – before she takes a breath and lets that longing go.

 Curious, she makes her way to the kitchen, only to find Elara sitting at the table with a stunned look on her face.  Kulah'ni’s pretty sure that her own jaw separates from her head completely.

Jorgan is completely unperturbed by her horrendous expression.  “Evening, sir.”

Kulah'ni feels her mouth working, trying to find the words, and gives up after a few moments, joining Elara at the table.

“I came in and he was _humming_ ,” Elara stage-whispers.

“You feeling okay, Jorgan?” Kulah'ni asks.  “You have a fever or something?”

“Ha-ha.”  Jorgan shoots her a look that puts her doubts about his health to rest.  “I figured that the mission with Forex was a complete success.  We're one step closer to having a full squad.  Maybe we ought to have a little celebration.”

“But now we know you can cook.”  Kulah'ni folds her arms.  “You've been holding out on me, Jorgan.  I may have to officially reprimand you for that.”

“I'm pretty sure that's an abuse of power, sir.”

“And he makes _jokes_ , too.  Wonders never cease.”

“It is a little bit ironic though, isn't it?” asks Elara.  “That you’re cooking to commemorate the addition of Forex, but Forex can't eat.”

“I decided to ignore that technicality,” Jorgan mutters.

“I'm not complaining,” Elara replies quickly.  “Stars know I'm hopeless in the kitchen.”

“I can put together a decent stew,” Kulah'ni admits.  “And… not much else.”

“Guess we’re not going to be having a potluck anytime soon,” says Jorgan.  He actually sounds disappointed.

It's fascinating to watch – Jorgan is relaxed and confident while he's cooking in a way that Kulah'ni rarely sees.  She's able to read between the lines and appreciate that this means that he trusts and cares about them, as evidenced by his good-natured weathering of their shock.  She wonders who he learned to cook from, and how often he does it.

He answers the second query without prompting.  “Fresh ingredients are hard to come by,” he explains to them.  “I usually use the leftovers of my personal allowance to buy them, when the occasion allows.”

Kulah’ni’s mind wanders to the few moments when they had downtime— on Coruscant, and later on Taris.  The markets there had hardly been prosperous, but she would trust them more than the ones on Nar Shaddaa any day.  Jorgan _was_ acting cagey, muttering something about running an errand before vanishing for a few minutes.  She hadn’t given it any thought at the time, acknowledging that Jorgan was someone who preferred to keep his privacy intact.

Jorgan sprinkles in a few more ingredients before placing a lid on the pot and joining them at the table with a contented sigh.  The three of them pass the time with conversation, punctuated by growls from Kulah’ni’s stomach that garner amused looks from both Jorgan and Elara.

Eventually she wanders off to find Forex, determined that he should join them regardless of his eating ability. 

In keeping with his usual good humor, Forex answers, “It will be a privilege to join this momentous celebration!”

The kitchen is cramped with Forex’s presence, but the motion and noise around Kulah’ni are such a far cry from the previous awkward silence (back when it was just her and Jorgan) that she’s hard-pressed to keep the smile off her face.  Elara and Aric are chatting good-naturedly with one another, in spite of his initial wariness towards Elara, and Forex’s booming overtones are enough to lift anyone’s spirits.

She and Elara set the table, moving easily around one another.  They brush arms more than once, and Kulah’ni manages to prevent a blush from spreading through her cheeks by some miracle. 

“You two are like a couple of flies,” Jorgan grumbles.  “Sit down.”

He’s made some kind of vegetable soup, which Kulah’ni is grateful for.  She’s also slightly touched; she only mentioned in passing that she adopted a vegetarian lifestyle, and it’s gratifying that to know that he’s been paying attention.  She can’t identify all the ingredients— she thinks there may be some kind of beet, and Alderaanian onions (which are a very distinctive blue), but everything else is unfamiliar.  The Jedi tended their own vegetable gardens, which were exclusively of plants native to Tython.

There’s also some kind of spice, and the whole ensemble almost makes Kulah’ni’s eyes roll back into her head.

“This is amazing, Aric,” she says, before internally freezing for a moment.  They’ve been sticking to surnames thus far.

But he only says, “Thanks,” and smiles.

Second and third helpings are taken, and Kulah’ni only half-heartedly laments that there isn’t enough for leftovers.  The four of them aren’t all that inclined to move, even though the knowledge that they ought to be getting back to work (no one told her that being a squad leader would mean so much paperwork) hangs in the air between them.  It’s sitting there, talking with three people that she’ll be happy to fight alongside, that Kulah’ni first feels like she made the right decision, back on Tython.

Elara is the first to crack, begging off to file requisitions for medical supplies.

“I’ll join you in a bit,” Kulah’ni tells her, remembering that she’s almost out of emergency kolto packs.  Oh, the joys of being a combat medic.

“I’ll expect you then, sir,” Elara replies, before leaving the room.

“Sergeant Dorne sets a fine example for a true Republic soldier,” Forex says.  “I, too, must return to my duties.  This has been a very enjoyable evening, Lieutenant, Sergeant.”

“Welcome to the team, Forex,” Jorgan says.  Kulah’ni nods.

Jorgan waits until Forex leaves the room before he turns his ‘I have something to discuss that you’re not gonna like but too bad for you’ look on her.  Kulah’ni shifts in her chair, suddenly thinking of the paperwork waiting for her in the conference room with longing.

“What?” she sighs.

“That Jedi on Nar Shaddaa.”

Instantly, she knows what he’s talking about.  “What about him?”

“A smart person would’ve killed him.”

The words are meant to be like literary blunt force trauma, and they nearly have that effect.  Kulah’ni bites back the first retort that comes to mind, subconsciously calling on her Jedi training to calm her mind.  She pieces apart his motives in this— his expression, the words he chose to use.  She knows he isn’t calling her stupid— by now, they respect one another too much.

“There was a way to help him,” she finally says.  “Killing him would’ve been easy.”

“Maybe,” he admits.  “Look, that’s not— I’m not challenging your call, exactly.  You probably helped the guy.  It’s just— there was a message for you this morning, and I noticed who the sender was.”

Kulah’ni starts; she’s a bit forgetful when it comes to organizational things, and checking her messages had slipped her mind when it was full of modifications of tactics and new routines.  She pulls out her datapad, frowning when she sees that there is indeed a message for her.

Under the sender heading is ‘Satele Shan’.

Kulah’ni doesn’t dare to look at Jorgan, instead opening the message and reading the contents.  Any other time, she might have been warmed by the Grand Master’s gratitude, but right now all she feels is guilt.

“I was raised on Tython,” she admits, lifting her head to look him in the eye.  “Before you ask, no, I’m not Force-sensitive.  I’m not a disgraced Jedi who ran to join the army, I just… there wasn’t a place for me there.”

“But you trained as one,” he says.  It’s not a question.

“Yeah.”

“Thought so.  Your scores on melee combat were pretty damn high, from what I saw.  Why does someone with that much skill haul an assault cannon around?”

“Melee fighters are the ones who _need_ medics,” Kulah’ni replies.  “They’re not medics themselves.”

Jorgan leans back in his seat a bit, and his gaze becomes less accusatory.  “I’m sorry if I seemed… pushy, Lieutenant.  But the fact that you’ve had Jedi training seems like a pretty big thing to hide.  And I don’t agree with all their values.”

Kulah’ni chuckles, letting him know that he’s forgiven.  “Hard to find someone that isn’t a Jedi who does.”

She wonders, briefly, if it’s a good idea to tell him which planet she spent the first ten years of her life on.  There is no official record that carries that information; the Jedi know, but choose to ignore it.  She’s afraid to go back to the stiff formality that they held towards one another, but if he finds out later, he’ll just feel more betrayed.

Sometimes it’s hard for her to call up her native accent, but it never completely goes away. 

“While we’re at it,” she says, still with a Republic accent, “I should probably let you know about my childhood, too.”  Then switching to her native accent, she adds, “Dantooine is an Imperial planet, and it’s a bit of a backwater, but it was home until I was ten.”

Jorgan does a double-take at the change, but she breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t look too outraged. 

“I’ll be honest, I never would have guessed,” he admits.  “I won’t ask about that, though.  I don’t doubt your loyalty, sir.”

“Thanks,” she replies, twisting her hands together in her lap.  “That… means a lot.  Both the loyalty part and the not asking part.”

Jorgan bows his head for a brief moment. 

Kulah’ni helps him clean up the dishes, then wanders through the Thunderclap (unnamed as of now) in search of Elara.  To her surprise, she’s not in the medbay, but has settled in a chair next to the one Kulah’ni had occupied earlier, in the conference room.

Elara stands and salutes.  “Sir,” she says.  “I took the liberty of moving my work in here.  I figured it would be easier for both of us.”

“At ease, Sergeant,” Kulah’ni replies.  “And thanks.  That’s very considerate of you.”

She indulges Elara’s compulsory rule-following because she knows it’s about more than just wanting to be a good soldier— it’s about control, and paranoia, and anxiety, all of which she’s seen hints of in Elara.  She knows a thing or two about coping mechanisms (she’s developed a few of her own since becoming Havoc Squad’s leader), and she has vowed to never ridicule Elara for her by-the-book actions.

If Elara’s going to be less formal with her, Kulah’ni wants that to be _her_ decision.

She settles into a seat next to Elara, who passes her one of the forms for medical supplies.  After taking another deep breath, contentment settling heavy on her shoulders, Kulah’ni gets to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> 1\. From now on, the fics in this series won't necessarily be written in order. Generally I'll be following the timeline, but if I get an idea for a fic that takes place before this one, then I'll write that. But I probably won't suddenly be jumping ahead to KOTFE, or something like that.
> 
> 2\. Kulah'ni was 18 when she went to the military academy, but it's been several years since then, and she's 23 at this point. Jorgan is 27, Elara is 22. I haven't mentioned this yet, but I'm stretching the class stories so that each one takes at least a few years (so a few months are spent on each planet). It's been about eight months since Kulah'ni's class story started. 
> 
> 3\. Kulah'ni doesn't like to discuss her past all that much, preferring to focus on the present instead, hence why she's never mentioned her Jedi upbringing to Aric.
> 
> 4\. How could I possibly resist SurpriseChef!Jorgan? Imagine our resident grumpy cat in an apron.
> 
> If you have questions, you can drop by my [tumblr](http://darknessfactor.tumblr.com/ask) or ask in the comments below. Thanks for reading!


End file.
